The Daemon Princes had fled. The remaining daemons were nothing to fear.
After Mortarion escaped, the Psychic Storm Lin En unleashed scattered the last of the toxic fog.
The green fog vanished completely.
Around the Great Rift, the purple-black starfield emerged once more.
With the foul fog gone, the starfield looked new again. A few distant stars hung cold against the black sky.
The Plague Marines and Daemons of Nurgle who had failed to escape fell into chaos.
With the Daemon Princes gone, they had lost their leaders. Nurgle's psychic network had split down the middle, and the fog had dispersed. The daemons, so used to advancing behind a tide of pollution, suddenly had no idea what to do.
The Plague Marines were just as bewildered.
They had never seen the fog clear before. They stood there with their swollen bellies, Chainswords raised, unsure whether to flee after their Gene-Father.
Not running?
Then they could stay.
Gabriel and Sentoyor led the Flesh Tearers and Blood Knights out from the Battle Barges to mop up the stragglers, while three Successor Chapter Masters led their warriors alongside them.
One by one, they cut down the Plague Marines and Daemons of Nurgle who had failed to escape the fog.
The Bolters made no sound in the vacuum, but their muzzle flashes flickered through the Golden Light.
The mortal crews remained on the decks and at the airlocks, handling supplies and hauling ammunition from the magazines to the advancing warriors.
Golden Light spread across the entire region, purging everything unclean.
The bodies of Plague Marines and Daemons of Nurgle fell one after another into the void.
Green slurry seeped from their wounds, only to be neutralized by the Golden Light into wisps of white smoke.
Rotten flesh sloughed from their bones and evaporated into